


The Perfect Body

by oREDACTEDo



Series: SPIKE to the Haikyuu Heart!! (and he’s to blame) [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Body Worship, Cute, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Muscles, Oikawa's delish back, Romance, Suggested by Comment, relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-04-25 11:44:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14377959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oREDACTEDo/pseuds/oREDACTEDo
Summary: You just can't get over how sexy your boyfriend's back looks when he sweats.





	The Perfect Body

**Author's Note:**

> Light fluff and silly stuff inspired from a delicious picture that AnonimusUnnoan linked in my other Oikawa fic! 
> 
> I kinda wanna make a kinky chapter two later on. Maybe if I have the time? Suggestions may be put in the comments. I just might work on them! You never knooooow~!
> 
> Readers name is Namae Sei, which apparently translates to "First Name Last Name". I may be wrong, but I prefer it over YN and LN!

“Hey, that girl’s super cute,” a first-year stammers, his finger pointing dead at your direction.  Another player swats his hand down almost instantly.  “Dummy, keep your voice down!”

“What?  How come?”

“That’s Vice Captain’s girlfriend you idiot!”

“Awe man, really?  With all the girls flirting with him I could have sworn he was single!  She’s super cute though.  If it doesn’t last, then I’m sure to jump on that!  I heard his relationships don’t hold.  The curse of being an idol, am I right?” 

A shadow was casted over them suddenly.  The boys fall silent.  Turning their heads slowly they catch sight of Oikawa, a dark look glazed over his eyes. 

“Tooru-kun!” Oikawa stops at the sound of a familiar voice.  He glances up to see you glaring at him, your cheeks tickled pink just like how he loves them.  “Get back to practice!”

“Ahh!  Yes Namae-chan~!”  He quickly turns on his heel before sprinting back into action, the first years seemingly running in fear from the 2nd year Vice Captain.

You didn’t know what it was that drew you to stare at him so often. 

Maybe it was how explosive his personality was.

Maybe it was how handsome his features were.

Maybe it was how soft spoke yet flirty his tone always came out to be.

Just then Oikawa _spikes_ the ball, launching the small bundle of fabric and plastic across the court as quick as a crack of lightning.

No—you knew exactly what it was…

Oikawa wasn’t just a friend to you, much like every boy in Aoba Johsai’s Volleyball team was.  Ever since your first year in Uni with him you two began dating.  Honestly, _every_ girl in your school hated you for it now.  You admit, you swooned over him in middle school.  But as the years went by and you managed to make it through your third year alive, you felt that you could say that your case was very different from most girls.  What truly won you over for Oikawa was how _weak_ he could be emotionally—he had cried in your arms multiple times.  How _sweet_ he was with his nephew—he was so damn proud when he showed you pictures of him that you almost couldn’t handle it.  How _adorable_ he was in those glasses of his—the poor guy hated when he ran out of contacts and was irresponsible enough to forget to order more. 

But of course, how _strong_ he was—you never saw Oikawa without his shirt on, but you could only imagine the muscles lining his back…

Right now, you sat on the bleachers of your University’s volleyball court.  Oikawa, being a second year, had managed to make a spot on the team with minimal effort during his 1st year try outs with ease.  Meanwhile, you struggled to make it as the manager.  The team already had the same one for several years, but your dedicated won her and the Coach’s heart in making you her vice manager.  The whistle blows suddenly. 

It was Oikawa’s turn to serve.

_You loved it when he served._

The way everyone stared with big fish eyes in total awe at his raw power.  Honestly, it probably satisfied you more than it did him.  Oikawa lands upon the ground with grace, but the look in his eyes was burning with a passion that he only had for volleyball. 

Never before have you been so damn jealous of a sport. 

“Namae-chaaaaan!” you heard his voice break through the sounds of squeaking sneakers and commands.  He was waving at you, and you scrambled with your clipboard to wave back.  “Did you see that sweetie?  I bet I dented the floor boards a little!”

_I bet you did,_ you thought, your sweet smile a stark contrast to those thoughts you were having just moment ago.  Oikawa seemed overjoyed, that is until he was totally soaked by something cold.  His screams echoed through the large room, you and the manager gasping with shock.  Iwaizumi had poured the entire cooler of melted ice upon his childhood friend, a sizzling red mark staining his forehead.  He looked very angry, but that’s when it hit you.  He had a good reason to be angry.

“SHIT…Y…KA…WA,” he seethed, Oikawa a soaking, shivering mess.  “YOU…HIT ME…ON…PURPOSE.”

“N-No!  I swear it was an accident, heheh!” Oikawa laughed nervously.  A scream fills your ears, Iwaizumi having socked Oikawa on the side of the head with the empty cooler.  Honestly, you were used to them being like this.  Oikawa, flustered and shivering, turns to face away from you for a moment.

Taut, lean, engorged muscles lined the length of his back, clearly visible now as his wet, white jersey clung against his tight skin.  Rolling his shoulders back you could see the way the curve of his spine dips into a deep, straight valley all the way down to the small of his back, where it disappears beneath the elastic of his shorts.  Tickled pink, you flushed when he turns to glance at you with curious eyes.  Your dream of discovering whether or not Oikawa was muscular came true, but so did your nightmare. 

He _caught_ you _staring._

The last thing you wanted was to come across as one of his clingy fan girls, much like the college ones who were squealing at the sight of him.  Taking your clipboard in hand you quickly turned before charting down the supplies in desperate need of restock. 

_Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shiiittttt._

The rest of the practice went on normally that day.  Oikawa had been forced to change, much to your relief.  You couldn’t stand having to watch him in that soaking jersey any longer. 

A week passed by.  You started your Wednesday morning like you always did.  As much as you hated the thought of doing something as mundane as Statistics, you were very aware of how important it was for you to keep up your grades.  On the 10th problem you heard your phone make a light mewl sound of a cartoon cat from your favorite show, the text tone you set specifically for Oikawa.  With tired eyes you glace at the phone, expecting it to be him venting to you about how mean Iwaizumi was, or how much he just _missed_ cuddling you, or how tired he was for having to reject other girls _over_ and _over_ again before showing them a picture to prove how cute you were (a part he was very delighted in doing).  Oikawa always dragged you out of your apartment twice a week, usually on Mondays and Wednesdays, to go out about to town.  Sometimes to pick up ice cream, other times to buy groceries for both your households.  At times, he’d even drag Iwaizumi along with him.  You were expecting the same thing today if it weren’t a complaint.  Your eyes widened at the sight of it being a large photo to download.  “Huh, maybe it’s his nephew?”  He always made sure to send you pictures of his cute little Takeru.  After several seconds it loads. 

Your eyes widen.

The photo was of Oikawa, standing in front of a mirror.  His back was turned to his, his phone peaking over his broad shoulder to snap a photo of himself.  What struck you the most was that he was _shirtless_ and sporting nothing but a pair of fitting slacks.

_Tooru: Namae-chaaaan, is my back getting too broad?  I’ve been working it out lately!  I’m worried I’m getting too big (~_ _￣▽￣)~ !_

Muscles rippled, forming rigid lines that were of perfect symmetry from the opposing side of his spine.  You could tell he was flexing, the way he stood almost like a model.  Concise, controlled, _tauntingly_.  And there was a smile on his face—a certain type of smile.  You blushed, your lips pressing into a thin line, and as you responded you couldn’t help but sigh shamefully.

_You: You look fine sweetie.  You’re doing great!  You can never be too fit._

The thought of him soaking wet in his Uni Jersey was making your stomach churn.  A familiar heat pooled between your thighs, and with a long, exasperated groan you began to return to your homework bitterly. 

Another mew from your phone—Oikawa responded in just seconds.

_Tooru: Hmmmm, alright then.  I always trust my sweet Namae-Chan’s words.  She’s so honest~.  Oh, do you want to come with me to the store?  I need to pick up more bread!_

You couldn’t possibly stray from your homework now.  You respond.

_You: I’m trying to finish homework!  Maybe later?_

He was texting back once he received it—you could see the dots of his response forming.

_Tooru: Pleeeeassseeee pretty, perfect, beautiful girlfriendddd (ΘεΘ ?_

Shit—you hated when he used the emojis.  They were annoying but cute at the same time.  Defeated, you get up before throwing on some clothes.  The cool air of fall was nipping at your nose as the two of you made your way down the sidewalk.  “The last batch of multigrain I got molded the day after!” he whined, his tanned coat fluttering in the breeze.  You chuckled, visibly shivering.  “You should have brought it.  The market is good at making exchanges.  It was probably a bad loaf that got mixed in with the fresh ones.”

“Ehhh?  I didn’t think of that!  If only you lived with me, Namae-chan!  Nothing would ever go wrong like it does with Iwai-chan…” he trailed off, an agitated look on his face.  But almost instantly he stops, his eyes set on you.  You struggled your hardest to not blush.

“Are you cold?” he asked.

You shook your head, “No, I’m fine.”

Blinking, Oikawa turns away before hunching down.  “What are you doing?” you grunt, but Oikawa glances back at you with a big smile.  “Hop on!  I can carry you there~.”

“W-What?” you stuttered, but he simply laughs off your shyness.  “My legs are fine, you moron,” you huff, but he insists. 

“My back is so wide, it’ll keep you warm!”

You pause.

_Tooru’s back…is warm?_

You shivered, but not from the cold.  Reluctantly, and growing embarrassed from all the eyes watching you both, you put your weight onto his back.  Oikawa stands with absolute ease, the heat radiating off him instantly making you melt against him.  You sigh, a pleased smile on your face.  “So warm…”

“See?  I told you so!  It’s silly how flustered you get with me—it’s as if we aren’t dating sometimes!”  Suddenly he pauses.  “…you aren’t embarrassed of me, are you?” 

You sputtered, “No, you dummy!” 

The two of you were walking again—well, at least, he was.  A few times he adjusted you, other times he bounced you as he continued going on about how training was last night.  You could feel the soft plush of his hair against your cheek, the beat of his heart while your thumb brushed his jugular.  But what really got to you was the firm, hard surface of his back.  Honestly, it felt as if you were on a hard mattress.  You couldn’t begin to fathom how hard his muscles really were, how tense he could get.  Pressing your face tighter against the junction of his neck you groan, his scarf soft and plush.  At the market he lets you go, and you two retrieved his new fresh loaf before he insists to carry you _all the way back._

Tooru was a clingy boyfriend—not once did it cross your mind that he felt anything more for you.  But half way back home you noticed the way he squeezed your thighs in his grip.  Firmly, almost possessively.

“Say, Tooru?” you asked, a stutter to your voice. 

“Hmm?”

“Where’s Hajime?”

Oikawa was quiet for a moment before he spoke up, “Iwai-chan has been looking for a job recently.  He’s going to a few interviews today!”

“Oh, that’s cool.”

There wasn’t anything weird about it.  You and Oikawa always spent alone time together.  But today was different, but when you had reached your apartment he didn’t drop you off.  Rather, he just kept walking.

“Oikawa, my house was back there.”

“Hmm?  You mean you don’t want to hang out with me anymore?” his jested with a fake hurt tone, and you hollowed your cheeks at his childish expression.  “Fine.”

That made him smile big.  His apartment was small, big enough for too people, and it smelt of lavender candles.  Most likely his doing, you thought.  Placing his bread in the breadbox, you were about to asking him if he wanted to go anywhere else.  But your voice was caught in your throat.  Oikawa had pulled off his jacket the moment you two had arrived, but you didn’t remember him pulling off his _shirt_ too.  Chest exposed, you instantly turned away from him with your cheeks reddened. 

Oh no—this was what you were most worried about.  For the entire year that you and Oikawa have dated, not once did anything frisky come of it.

“Hmm?  What’s wrong, Namae-chan?” he asked, having noticed your sudden rigidness.  “Your face is beet red!  Are you sick?”

“P-Put your shirt back on, dummy!” you were frantic.  Then you heard it.  That low _chuckle._ One step, two, four, suddenly he was behind you.  You could feel the heat of his body against yours.  You should have known something crazy like this was bound to happen.  The day you first saw Oikawa spike a ball he spiked his way right into your life harder than anything ever had.  He was painfully aware of that—he always teased you about it.  How much he caught you admiring him.

“Oh Namae, you’re so flustered, I’d almost think you had a thing for my body!”

There—that’s what he always said.  Every single time the follow up was Iwaizumi coming to save your day.  But today, he wasn’t here, he was being an adult far from here.  That meant the only thing standing between you and Oikawa was the dead air.

“Dummy…of course I do, I’m your girlfriend!”

“Then why don’t we do something about it, _hmm_?”

Dear God, you could feel your feet giving out under your already.  Turning to face him, you were met with his defined chest.  Pectorals connected to the rippling muscles of his trunk, forming several layers of raw strength all the way down to his tight belly button.  The v-shape of his lower belly was accompanied by sharp hips and a very light tuft of hair that trailed beneath the hem of his sweat pants.  You shuddered, having caught yourself stare, but not before he caught you in the act.  Tiling your chin up with his long fingers, Oikawa gives you a soft yet promiscuous smile. 

“Silly, my eyes are up here…”

“I-I know that…um,” you gulp, glancing behind him, then the other side.  Shit.  He was looking right at you with those chocolate eyes. 

“What’s your _favorite_ part about me?” he asked a little playfully.  Tinged cheeks, you felt your lips roll into a thin line as you thought.  No, you didn’t even need to think.  You loved his…

“Your muscles…” you spoke breathlessly, trying your best not to swoon at the thought of his sweat slicked body running around that court every morning for a warm up.  The concentrated look on his face while beads of clear liquid drenched his every inch, rippling with every powerful stride forward.  The way his chest heaved after an _incredible_ performance.  Every.  Single.  Time.

“Especially your back,” you reached around him to feel the taut muscles.  You’ve touched them many times, but not this intentionally.  This intimately.  And they were just as warm and firm as you imagined.  You gulp, your stomach twisted from all the excitement that was happening.  You barely noticed his hands brushing along your hips, pinching your pants lightly before snaking between the hem to grip at your tender flesh. 

“Oh?  What else?”

Shaking your head, you awaken from your daze before smiling up at him playfully. 

“Nothing really.”

Oikawa frowns, “Really?  Don’t be so mean, Namae-chan!  I work out so hard for you—don’t pretend that I’m not good enough for you.  Then all my efforts would have been in vain!” he whines.  Deep, deep down the crevices of your mind something snaps.

_I work out so hard for you._

_All my efforts would have been in vain._

Babbling words came spilling from your mouth, your pink cheeks growing ten shades darker, and for the umpteenth time Oikawa chuckles at how precious he thought you looked.  “Don’t look at me like that you jerk,” you were a complete mess as he brushes your bangs from your face.  Taking your hand in his, he presses your hands against his lean body.  It was hot to the touch, and you almost screamed.

_IS THIS HAPPENING???_

“My my, so shy!  That's why I love you, Namae-Chan~.  So modest!  I love your body, too, you know.  So soft and silky…I've been thinking about it lately.  Would you let me explore a bit?” he teases, his fingertips light and feathery to the touch as he teases your until goosebumps form.

 “…alright,” you swallowed hard, your hand resting upon him still.  Oikawa seizes your lips with his swiftly, your mind shattering from the mere contact.  Around you were posters of space and the blaring air conditioning and the deafening ringtone that Oikawa had set for whenever Iwaizumi called, but all of that fell in deaf ears.  For the next few precious hours, all Oikawa wanted to sense was you, at least until 6 when Iwaizumi came home.

For now, you would enjoy his incredible body.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments or Requests? 
> 
> My Tumblr: http://tiktikaswang.tumblr.com/


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